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J. Why, dad, I calc’late there must be plenty of work to be did. I reckon I should like to tend in a store.

Dea. P. Lazy business, Jonathan.

J. That’s what I like it for, dad. I’ve had hard work enough, and I want to take it easy awhile. Maybe I shall go into business on my own hook, if I get a good chance. There aint no reason why I shouldn’t get rich as well as other folks.

Mrs. P. (hastily). I hope, Jonathan, you aint goin’ to take that two hundred and fifty dollars out of the Savings Bank, that yer Aunt Betsey give you in her will.

J. Of course I be. How can a feller go into business without capital?

Mrs. P. (solemnly). You’ll lose every red cent of it, take my word for it.

J. And earn five times as much more, marm; I guess I know how to make money as well as other folks.

Mrs. P. Deacon, do say somethin’ to git him off this foolish plan. He’ll fail, sartain, an’ it’ll make his aunt rise from her grave, if he loses all the money that she earned by knittin’ an’ dryin’ apples.

Dea. P. (reflectively). I don’t know, Almiry, but the boy might as well try his luck, seein’ he’s sot on it. Perhaps he may do well, arter all.